Friday, October 08, 2004

These Lips Aren't Kissing Themselves Here Chicken

Shut up
come here and kiss me
you know i want you so

stop your talking already
and just bring it
don't make me walk over there

conversation time is over
got better things to do
pucker up and plant one on me
bla-bla time is through

my lips are glossed and ready
read their softness that's your cue
pour the sugar on me
kiss me till i'm blue

hey come back here
what you afraid of
i address the top of your feet

talk now
scared to look at you
maybe you should leave

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

HMMMMMOOOWAAAA! SMACK! SMACK! SMOOOOOCH! (from a not so chicken Mitch)

Anonymous said...

I'd kiss the munkay but that Rock keeps blocking me.

Penelope said...

hmmm. . . sounds oddly familiar.

Cattiva said...

Friday's tend to make you frisky don't they? :)

Professor Batty said...

...Yes Ma'am, no need to say it twice...

lab munkay said...

Thank you for your responces. If only my psycic ability got these responces, I wouldn't need to write such silly things. Or rename it "Demands of an Itervert." And Catt- the "frisk" is in my always, having a hubby that is only home on weekends tends to let me voice it louder Fridays through Sundays. Allthough I have spoken it weekdays, pizza delivery boys, repair men and males in the vicinity tend to just run off crying. Whimps.